


Asshole

by Rockin_Robyn



Series: In The Crossroads of Our Love [13]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Fist Fights, Gay Characters, Homophobia, Lace and Leather, M/M, Nipples, Russian, Smut, Xenophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:47:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21666151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rockin_Robyn/pseuds/Rockin_Robyn
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character, Serik Islamov/Mika Lester
Series: In The Crossroads of Our Love [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1101024





	Asshole

Serik’s head pounded in time with the music around him. His drink sloshed and threatened to spill as the crowd around him thrashed. He had been dragged here by Dani and Georgie but couldn’t see them anymore. In fact he couldn’t really see anyone. His dad broke his glasses a few days before and he couldn’t find his contacts anywhere.

He had just made up his mind about leaving when paused. He turned towards the mosh pit like dance floor that was someone’s lounge at the beginning of the night. He heard the problem before he saw it. A pretty brunette in all black cussing out the star rugby player. In Russian.

As far as Serik knew, only three students at his school were fluent in Russian. Him, his sister, and Mrs. Castillo’s son. 

Serik hoped it wasn’t him. The last thing anyone needed was that little piece of boner bait prancing around, looking more obscene in head-to-toe leather and lace than anybody else could without any clothing of any kind on.

Regardless of who it’s was though, Serik was going to help. Everyone knew to stay away from David Bailey. If he wasn’t trying to grope you he was probably calling you a fag or a wop. 

Serik stomped over to David and his mystery victim, used to the people parting for him. 

“Bailey!”

David and the mysterious brunette’s heads snapped towards him. Serik still couldn’t make out the brunette’s face but he could tell they were pissed. The brunette’s arms were being held against their sides by David. He was sure there would be bruises, based on the bunching of their jacket. 

“Let ‘em go. Now.”

David narrowed his eyes at Serik and laughed. He tightened his grip on the brunette as he flashed Serik a crooked yellow grin. 

“Why? You need to wet your dick in some commie fag, goat fucker?”

Ah. So it was Mika. Damnit. 

“No. Do you?”

“Ha!”

The meat head of a boy snorted, scrunching up his nose. He hocked a glob of phlegm onto the ground. Yikes. 

“Nah man. Just trynna shut this bitch up. Little wanker keeps lyin’ on me being a fag like him.”

Mika shook his head and looked down at his feet where they were hovering over the ground by at least an inch. 

“YA ne. U menya yest' fotografii, chtoby dokazat' eto mudak.”

David glared at Mika. He began to shake the smaller boy’s shoulders. 

“What?”

The rugby player snarled at his victim, spit coming out in a fine spray. 

“Speak up little red! According to you, I like ‘em loud.”

The crowd around them tittered and laughed nervously out of fear of retribution. 

“He said he has pictures, asshole.”

Serik’s voice rang out. Someone cut the music. 

David stomped up to the older boy and shoved him. 

“Oh does he? What’re you gonna do about it, queer? You, him, and everyone else like you needs to get the fuck out of this country. He should just take his fucking ass back to St. Petersburg and become someone’s housewife. That’s about all he’d be good for, with that face.”

The air around him stilled, and Serik experienced a moment of pure, unadulterated clarity. Then, in the space of that calm, his fist flew up from his side in a smooth arc, connecting squarely with the nose of the smug bastard in front of him. 

Behind them, one of David’s teammates, Mickey Wilson surged up to defend him. Serik’s brain calmly insisted that he had to pay. His fists seemed to agree. As the muscled jock was hunched over, holding his face, Serik’s hand flew over his head, hitting the stunned-looking Mickey on the cheek. He went sprawling backwards, barely managing to catch himself before he fell over. He righted himself and raised his face to the Kazakh, his eyes clearly stating that this was the first time he had been hit.

David, however, had recovered much faster from the shock. He straightened up, allowing his hands to fall to his sides as his nose streamed blood. Serik looked on impartially, waiting. Mickey launched himself at Serik, nearly snarling with fury.

Serik watched him come, and stepped deftly out of the way at the last second, bringing his fist down hard on the other’s back, between the shoulder blades. The boy staggered, gasping, but managed to catch himself and rounded back, swinging his fist around wildly. Serik grabbed it in midair, holding it up high and driving his other fist into the star player’s gut. The stocky boy crumpled, dangling by the hand that Serik still had a hold on.

He drew his hand back and drilled it into the David’s stomach a second time. A sickening groan burst from his lips, and his head dangled low on his chest. With the motion of one tossing a dirty rag into the garbage, Serik turned and flung the boy into his taller friend, who was ill-prepared to catch him. They both went down in a tangle of limbs.

As they lay on the ground, moaning in pain, Serik stalked over to them and knelt on the ground. He reached out and pulled both of their faces up by the collars of their shirts, forcing them to stare into his cold eyes. 

“Now I want you both to listen to me. If I ever hear either of you say anything about Mika again, or any other queer person, immigrant or person with skin a shade darker than yours, I promise I will make this night seem like a pleasant dream. I will not allow anyone to talk about us like that.” 

He stared coolly into the eyes of both boys as they each nodded frantically. Another thought occurred to him, and he added, 

“And one more thing. If any teacher asks you about how you got hurt–especially if his mom asks–you are going to say nothing about this. You will make up some lie about how you tripped, because you’re too stupid to notice the ground under you and door knobs in front of you. Understood?” 

More frantic nodding. Satisfied, Serik dropped them, and slowly drew himself up until he was towering over them. They watched him rise apprehensively. 

“Get out of here. I don’t want to look at your faces anymore.” 

More quickly than any remaining pride would have allowed, they scrambled to their feet and scurried out of the house. 

Serik’s lungs burned and his chest heaved, but oh if he didn’t feel better than he ever had. In front of him someone clicked their tongue at him. He looked up to see Mika smirking at him. 

“As hot as that was, we need to hide.”

Mika tugged Serik’s Hans and helped him stumble up the stairs.

“Huh? Why?”

“Politsiya.”

“Fuck”

Mika threw his head back and laughed. He sat down in the hall, taking Serik with him.   
———————————————————————  
“Vy znayete, chto my dolzhny delat'? Prazdnovat'?”

Mika was grinding down on a stranger’s lap and nipping at his neck. Actually, at this point, Serik Islamov was no stranger. They’d had two conversations and Mika borrowed his notes in History once. His breath hitched as the smaller boy licked a trail up to his ear and teased the skin of his ear lobe.

“Prover' svoyu gibkost', malysh?”

Mika shuddered at the low rumble in Serik’s chest and ground his hips down harder. The older boy gripped his hips and moved to kiss Mika. They separated, still connected by a string of saliva.

“Let’s go, Mikeal.”

Mika groaned and wrapped his legs around the Kazahk boy. Serik grunted as he stood and laughed at the boy wrapped around him like a koala.

Mika's jacket was the first thing to go, since Serik had already lost his. The shirt was next. Serik grabbed the hem and tugged, silently asking for permission. When Mika nodded, he pulled it off and tossed it aside.

Underneath, his lace sleeve...thing momentarily stumped Serik. Although he knew he loved the way it framed his nipples. As soon as the boy’s top was removed, Serik started his attack. He sucked a hickey above one, making Mika gasp and moan. It was so easy to get him worked up. Once he was done mouthing at his chest, Otabek moved, leaving marks all over his bare torso.

"Fuck! Serik!"

Once he reached Mika’s belly button, Serik pulled back and took off his own shirt, dropping it on the end of the bed. He stayed like that, towering above the boy, a sly smile on his face. 

"You’re drooling, Meeks."

Making an amused noise, he kissed the tip of Mika’s nose, just wanting to see what kind of reaction he could get out of him. He laughed even harder as the Russian's face went bright pink.

Thinking he had teased him long enough, Serik went back to the task at hand. He scooted back on the bed and lowered himself down on his stomach in between the brunette’s parted legs after removing his skinny jeans. He was still wearing fishnets and a pair of dark boy short style panties, but they hid nothing.

Mika felt his mouth start to water at the sight of the older boy in front of him. He wanted nothing more than to have Serik in his mouth. 

"Can I blow you?"

"You have to fucking ask?"

He didn't answer. Started right above his knee, Mika started kissing up Serik's thigh. When he got half way, he began to tremble. After waiting a few seconds with no results, he lightly grabbed Mika’s chin and tilted it so that he would face him. 

"There is no reason for you to be embarrassed. It is just me."

"Yeah, I get that, but you aren't the one in your birthday suit!"

Without hesitation, Serik sat up and dropped his pants, his boxers going with them. He heard Mika squeak and look away again, and couldn't help but laugh. He had always felt pretty comfortable with his body. He had worked hard to get it the way it is, and didn't mind if people looked at it. He was proud that all of his hard work payed off.

Nothing holding him back now, Mika focused all of his attention on making Serik feel good. He started off by simply stroking him a little before flicking his tongue over the head. He started licking with enthusiasm, as though the upperclassman was his favorite ice cream flavor. 

It didn't take long at all for Serik to start moaning. In fact, he was very loud in bed. He groaned when Mika took the tip in his mouth, and nearly sobbed when he swirled his tongue. Serik knew he was good, but he didn't think he was that good.

"Ah Allah, the mouth on you!" 

He grabbed a handful of Mika’s hair and tugged, making him whimper. Serik didn't let go, and he want him to. Starting to breathe through his nose, Mika went down deeper. He took even more of the Kazakh into his mouth, making him let out a muffled grunt. He looked up to see that Serik had a hand over his mouth, trying to keep quiet. Mika found it adorable.

He kept messing with his hair. He alternated between tugging on it, to running his fingers through it, to twirling strands around his fingers. Mika didn't mind. He knew that if the roles were switched, he would probably be tugging Serik’s hair so hard that he pulled it out.

Mika noticed when he was close. His breathing got labored and he began thrusting up into his mouth. He went pliant and let him, allowing Serik to simply use his mouth as he pleased. The noises he made got desperate and he moved his hands to cup Mika’s face. He hummed, earning a groan from the older boy. Mika was so hard that it was painful. He knew he would only need a few good strokes to get him off, but he wanted to take care of Serik first.

He traced circles on the insides of his thighs, and then grabbed hold of them when the Serik went still. He made a choked noise and then was coming, some of it going down the Russian’s throat and the remains slipping out past his lips. It dropped down his chin as he pulled out.  
Not able to resist anymore, Mika wrapped his hand around himself and stroked until he came. It went on his hand, Serik's stomach, and onto the sheets. It was a mess. He rolled over so Mika could flop down on the bed beside him. He look over at him, and smiled lazily.

“Ready for round two baby boy?”


End file.
